


the safest way to go (nobody gets hurt)

by BadWolfGirl3



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Fighting, First Kiss, Getting Back Together, Hugs, I’m so exhausted this took me three hours, Love Confessions, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Post-Canon, They still love each other, breaking up, it’s 3 am why do I do this to myself, this hurt to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25340353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl3/pseuds/BadWolfGirl3
Summary: The thing is, they’d been falling apart for a long time. They both knew it. Nights full of talking and laughter in their shared bed turned to ear splitting silence, nights spent turned away from each other, the distance between them insurmountable.Maybe all they were ever meant to do was hurt each other.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	the safest way to go (nobody gets hurt)

**Author's Note:**

> So I totally wasn’t planning on writing this. It wasn’t even on my prompt list- the list of fics I’m planning on writing, most of which I wrote in a kind of fever dream and promptly forgot about afterwards. 
> 
> But. I came across a song today in a fan edit and it totally threw me. And suddenly I was grabbing my notebook and jotting this mess down and here we are. 
> 
> If you’re the type to listen to music while you read (like me), I would recommend Speeding Cars by Walking on Cars. It’s the inspiration for this one- and where I got the title.

They tried. They really did.

Oswald sighed, staring into the contents of his glass, trying to block out all the unwanted thoughts that come with being stupidly drunk at an ungodly hour, alone in your giant, lonely mansion with no one else to talk to.

Trying to block out the thoughts of _him_. His beautiful brown eyes, soft hair that curled when it wasn’t weighed down by any sort of product. Those stupid green suits that should have looked garish on anyone else but managed to work for him perfectly. The way his enthusiasm lit up the room, how he’d tell a riddle with glee and bounce on his toes as he waited for you to answer it. His manic smiles so bright with blood on his face and a knife in his hand.

How he looked when he told Oswald that they were over.

The thing is, they’d been falling apart for a long time. They both knew it. Nights full of talking and laughter in their shared bed, fingers tangled together and hearts beating the same rhythm, turned to ear splitting silence, nights spent turned away from each other, the distance between them insurmountable, or not even in the same bed, Ed sleeping God knows where and not bothering to call to tell Oswald where he was or if he was even coming back at all.

Old wounds festered and burned, turning their hearts blacker and colder as time went on, poisoning them both from the inside out.

Maybe all they were ever meant to do was hurt each other.

Oswald took another swig of his drink, clenched his eyes at the burn and the sudden onslaught of memories.

Daggers in his heart. Oh, if only he knew.

...

_They’d been growing closer for a long time now. Ten years was a long time to think about a lot of things, all the betrayal and hurt fading into old scars that only hurt when pressed too hard, anger simmering and changing into something else. Something better. Time heals all wounds, they say. It seemed, at least for now, the saying proved true._

_Ed would stop by The Lounge between heists and visits to Arkham, offering his company and riddles. Oswald would listen to his schemes and stroke his ego, knowing any help he offered would be scoffed at in favor of Ed’s genius, but content to just listen anyway. He didn’t mind. Any chance to be around Edward was one he was willing to take._

_Chance meetings became stopping by for a chat became luncheons and dinners. Touches lingered longer and eyes strayed further and it seemed all they were doing was free falling towards the inevitable._

_Until one night they finally hit the ground._

_They sat together in front of the fire in the mansion (even though Oswald had a spacious living area above The Lounge, he could never bring himself to sell his family home), Oswald with his whiskey and Ed with his tea. It was all so very reminiscent of that night so many years ago, when Ed had looked at him so openly, brown eyes almost golden in the firelight, and uttered the six words that would tie Oswald to him forever._

I would do anything for you.

_And maybe Ed was picking up on it too, felt the ghosts of the past with their rattling chains pressing down on them, a tangible weight in the air, because he suddenly cleared his throat, breaking their comfortable silence._

_“Do you…” he trailed off a moment. “Do you ever wish you could go back and change it? Make it all different?”_

_There were so many things he could be referring to - they were not innocent men, after all - but Oswald knew exactly what he meant._

If you could, would you take it all back? All the lies, the hate, the anger, betrayal? Even if it meant not knowing how it would be moving forward?

_Oswald took a sip of his drink, pointedly staring into the fire. Refusing to meet Edward’s molten brown eyes, older, more haunted now, but still the same ones that looked at him so clearly all those years ago._

_“I would.” He was silent for a minute, choosing his words carefully. Trying not to break the tentative_ thing _they had going between them. His eyes darted over to him before quickly returning to the light of the fire. “Would you?”_

_Ed placed his cup on the coffee table and leaned his whole frame on his elbows. Let out a deep breath of air, his cheeks puffing out dramatically._

_“I would.”_

_Oswald sat there quietly, turning the words over in his head. Unsure of how to respond, and refusing to get his hopes up, bare his heart once more and let it get stomped on._

_Ed took a sharp breath and turned to him, sitting up. His body was tensed and ready to run- Oswald recognized that look._

_“What I said to you here… all those years ago. That night. It… it hasn’t changed. I - I’ll always mean those words. You can count on that.”_

_Oswald tensed you, eyes closing tightly against the wave of tears threatening to spill across his cheeks. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?_

_Ed’s cool palm cupped his face then, gentle and sure, and Oswald’s eyes flew open. He was looking at him like he had that night; open and honest and so, so beautiful._

_“Ed, I -” Oswald struggled to get out something, anything, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips._

_“Shh… Oswald,” Edward whispered, his other hand coming up to frame his face. Oswald whimpered, a small, embarrassing sound breaking past his teeth, unguarded and unplanned. Ed smiled, just a little, and leaned in slowly. So, so slowly._

_It was all so surprisingly simple after that._

_Their lips met, soft and sweet. Oswald gasped and dropped the glass he was holding, letting it fall to the floor, contents spilling and soaking into the rug. His hands came up to clutch at Ed, grabbing everywhere, greedy to possess him for however long he got to have him. Breathless little sounds escaped his lips as he pulled Edward closer, the kiss deepening but refusing to lose its softness._

_And Ed was pulling him into his lap, and their tongues were tangling together, breathing picking up and harsh in their ears, and suddenly nimble fingers were undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and-_

…

And. Well. The rest, as they say, was history. Until it wasn’t.

Oswald resisted the urge to throw his glass at the fireplace, watch it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Break just like his heart.

After they got together, everything seemed to finally fall into place. Oswald had found his true love- what more could he need?

The days turned into weeks into months, and Ed moved into the mansion, took up permanent residence. The year that followed was the happiest of Oswald’s life. Their days were filled with kisses at the breakfast table and in front of the stove, caresses on top of counters and desks and even the piano, once, giggling over schemes and murder and the occasional recreational torture. Their nights involved dates to plays and operas and restaurants, feeding each other morsels of food and drinking heady wine, linking their fingers together as they ran away from a bank or museum, making love in front of the fireplace and curling up like question marks afterwards, just enjoying each other’s company.

Oswald loved Ed. And Ed loved Oswald.

…

_They laid together, sweaty and sated in their bed, Oswald’s head resting on Edward’s chest, right over his heart. His eyes were squeezed shut, focusing on the rhythmic thumping and the rise and fall of his chest._

_He was just starting to nod off when Ed’s tentative voice rang out in the darkness, breaking the silence._

_“You know I love you, right?” Ed’s arms tightened around him as he said it, as if he were afraid he’d try to run at the words._

_Oswald sucked in a sharp breath of air, head darting up to meet Ed’s eyes. His heart stuttered out an unsteady best, hesitant and hopeful and oh so in love._

_“You do?”_

_Edward ran a hand through Oswald’s hair, a gentle, grounding caress. “I think I’ve always loved you.”_

_A tear ran down his face and Edward wiped it away with his thumb. “I love you, too. More than anything.”_

_Ed smiled and sucked in air in a sort of happy gasp and brought their lips together, sweet and short. When they parted, he tightened his arms around Oswald and buried his head in his hair, breathing deeply. “Go to sleep, my little bird. I love you.”_

_They fell asleep like that, arms wrapped around each other, hearts almost beating in tandem._

…

What Oswald wouldn’t give to go back to that moment and stay in it forever.

The thing is, it was never one issue that finally cleared them in two. They just… grew apart.

Edward spent more and more time at his headquarters, determined to unmask the Bat once and for all, kept doing something stupid and getting himself thrown in Arkham over and over again, only to escape and restart the cycle. Oswald threw himself into running the criminal underworld, keep appearances at The Lounge, anything to distract himself from the heart stopping realization that _they weren’t talking anymore._

Breakfasts turned into grabbing a piece of toast from a plate and running out the door into not eating at all. Dinners and dates slowly dwindled until burning out altogether. Making love became just sex, a chore they could finish before turning over and falling asleep without a word.

In their world, trust was everything to them. Who you trusted was the first thing you needed to establish, who you could count on in the heat of the moment, the line between coming out on top or finding yourself dead in a ditch somewhere. It was one of the things that had torn them apart in the first place. If they couldn’t trust each other, there was no way they were ever going to work out.

 _And_ , Oswald realized one evening at The Lounge when Ed was off doing God knows what God knows where with a stabbing pain in his stomach, _he no longer trusted Edward._

He was breaking, falling apart from the inside out, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

And then Ed started sleeping at his old apartment or headquarters, wouldn’t call and leave Oswald sick with worry, and suddenly that was it.

…

_“It wouldn’t kill you to call me and let me know where you are once in a while!” Oswald spat, fighting to keep the wobble out of his voice._

_Ed whirled around from where he’d been stalking at the window, eyes wide and fiery._

_“Well excuse me if I need some space every now and then! I don’t need your smothering or your -”_

“Smothering _!? I don’t smother!” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know where you are anymore! You could be off getting yourself killed, end up dead in the river somewhere and_ I wouldn’t know! _I’m your partner, I love you, all I want is to make sure you’re okay!”_

_Ed snorted, a short, angry sound. “As if you’d even notice if I wasn’t. You’re too involved in yourself and your own problems to see what’s right in front of your face!”_

_“Well maybe if you would just talk to me -”_

“I have nothing to say! _Neither of us have, not for a long time, and you know it.” He sunk down into a nearby chair, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. Oswald had always thought Edward looked timeless, moving through the years with enough enthusiasm that time couldn’t touch him._

_In that moment, though, he looked every bit his own age._

_“This isn’t working, Oswald.” As if he was just noting the weather or the time of day. As if it didn’t completely destroy Oswald and break him into tiny pieces. “It hasn’t been working for awhile now.”_

_Oswald swallowed past the lump in his throat and sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know.”_

_“I think… I think we need to stop kidding ourselves. We need to stop this before it’s too late.” Ed’s eyes glistened with angry, defeated tears. It hurt to look at him._

_Oswald clenched his eyes shut. “If that’s what you want…”_

“Of course it isn’t what I want!” _Ed shouted, standing abruptly from his chair. “All I ever wanted was you!” He seemed to deflate then, running a hand through his hair. “But I can’t… I can’t keep doing this anymore.”_

_Biting back a sob, Oswald nodded. “Okay.”_

“Okay?”

_“Okay.”_

_“What, you’re not going to even fight for this? For_ us?!”

“ _Edward_ , _the last time I tried to control you, you -”_

 _“You know what? Fine._ Fine _. I’m leaving. I’ll come by and get my stuff tomorrow. Goodbye, Oswald.” He made his way towards the door and Oswald shut his eyes, unable to watch him leave._

_He really did start crying then, quiet sobs wracking his whole frame. He could hear Edward’s footsteps stop, just once, then heard the door open and slam shut. His steps echoed into silence._

…

That was six months ago. They hadn’t spoken since.

Oswald threw himself into his business, snapping at even the smallest offense. He threatened and tortured and killed at every inconvenience, until his lackeys couldn’t even look him in the eye without wondering if he was going to stab them in the heart for it.

And Edward… oh Edward.

He buried himself in his work more than he ever had before, his once foolproof deathtraps becoming shaky and unsafe, unreliable. He’d been put in Arkham more times in the last six months than in the previous two years combined, and with each escape and new plan, his schemes got more dangerous, more reckless. Oswald couldn’t go a day without hearing on the radio what the Riddler had gone and done now, what new trap he’d created to baffle the city’s protectors.

It was slowly tearing him apart.

Placing his glass on the table with an audible click, Oswald stood up, determined to go to sleep and forget about all of this. He’d knock himself out if he had to.

He turned around, stretching and expecting to see the heavy oak door that led to the staircase up to his room…

And met Edward’s eyes instead.

A choked sound escaped his throat, and in a flash Oswald had the knife usually concealed in his leg brace in his hand, holding it out in front of him.

He forced himself to choke back the pained laugh that threatened to escape his lips; it hurt him more than he thought it would to realize they were back where they’d started. Some things never change.

Edward looked tired. His hair was longer than when he’d last seen him, unkempt and dirty. There were large, dark shadows under his eyes, ones that came from going weeks without sleep.

Oswald would know. He covered his with makeup.

They stood there in silence for a long time. The hand that held the knife shook.

“I… I’m sorry,” Edward finally said, lowering his head to stare at the floor. “I blamed you for all our problems when it was just as much on me.”

Oswald opened his mouth and shut it again. Clenched his teeth. “No, I’m sorry,” he finally said, still gripping the knife. “I shouldn’t have let you walk out, I should have _fought_ -”

“I was going to walk away regardless.” He laughed, a sharp, painful thing. “I was stupid. As if I could ever get away from you.” He tilted his face up to the ceiling, as if to keep tears from running down his face. “Every time I turn around, there you are. I can’t do anything without thinking of how you’d react, can’t close my eyes without seeing your face, can’t -”

He took a deep, shaky breath, eyes suddenly filling with tears. “I haven’t slept, since I left. I can’t sleep without you wrapped around me. I just go until the exhaustion finally knocks me out and then I get up and start all over again.”

Oswald clenched his eyes shut, fighting back the images of Edward, exhausted and alone, unable to sleep and losing his mind for it. His hand shook violently, the knife threatening to slip through his fingers. His heart beat so fast he thought it just might stop altogether (wouldn’t that be fitting?).

Edward quickly wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms and sucked in a deep breath of air. “It can’t be like it was,” he said, locking his eyes with Oswald. “If we can’t fix our communication then we’ll be right back to where we started and I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

Oswald finally dropped the knife. It fell to the rug with a thud. “You… want to try again?” He hated how hopeful it sounded.

Edward nodded.

Oswald took a deep breath, mulling over his next words. “No more secrets. If we have a problem, we need to talk to each other about it. Not just… ignore it and hope it goes away. Even if it hurts.”

Ed nodded again and the two fell silent.

Oswald took a deep breath. “Do you still mean what you said? All those years ago?” _Do you still love me?_

“I’ll always mean them.” _I’ll always love you._

“Say them again?”

Edward sucked in a breath of air and let it out slowly, almost bracing himself. “I would do anything for you.”

That was all it took. Oswald started to cry, hot tears running down his face. Ed took a step forward, then one back; seemingly unsure of what he was allowed to do.

“Can… can I hold you now?” he asked, voice tentative.

Oswald nodded, speaking through his tears. “You don’t have to ask me that.”

With three long strides, Edward crossed the room and pulled Oswald into his arms, holding him tight. He rubbed his back and let him cry into his stupid green suit and hummed a soothing song, all of which only him him cry harder, whole body shaking with the effort.

“Shh… don’t cry, little bird. I’m right here, I love you, I _love_ you…”

“I love you too,” Oswald gasped out, clutching Ed’s shoulders tightly. “I never stopped. I’ll _always_ love you.”

Ed buried his face into his hair, and Oswald could feel his tears leaking out onto his skull. He held on tighter.

He didn’t know how long they’d been standing there, but it was long enough that his knee was starting to cramp and his eyelids were starting to droop. He looked up at Ed, eyes searching, pleading. Oswald thought he might fall dead on the spot if he didn’t kiss him right this moment.

Edward seemed to get the message. He ducked his head and sealed their lips together, a soft kiss that nearly brought Oswald to his knees. Oswald’s hands came up to frame his face, cupping his cheeks reverently in his palms and giving as good as he got. _God,_ he’d missed this so much. He never realized how much he _needed_ Edward, how without him he just completely shut down and became a shell, until he lost him.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Ed smiled at him when they pulled away, eyes twinkling, and Oswald was suddenly brought back to a time when all he’d known was this small, eager to please forensic scientist, the two of them caught in each other’s orbit.

Maybe things would be different this time. Maybe they’d only ever been meant to hurt each other, yes, but maybe they’d also been meant to pull each other back together. Whatever it was, Oswald would tangle his fingers with Ed’s and run headfirst into it, strong in the knowledge that if nothing else, he’d always have Edward.

If the world broke apart and the sun exploded and time itself stopped, he was all Oswald would ever need.

“Come to bed with me?”

Ed dropped a kiss on the top of his head, holding him close. “Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of hurt to write, honestly. But I wasn’t going to leave it sad, I hate unhappy endings. I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I’ve never had a big blowout like this or anything, so hopefully this was semi realistic? I tried.
> 
> Fun fact: I hand write this one and then transferred it to my phone. Which was a pain in the butt. However, because it got transferred, you are looking at the second draft with a few new edits, not the first draft with a few edits. So... progress? Let me know what you think anyways. 
> 
> Stay safe, guys. I love y’all!


End file.
